World of Wars
by Flying
Summary: Year six. Dementors have attacked the white house. Muggles have outcast wizards; wizards have started listening to the old wizard families. What is Harry Potter to do when the man who he is destined to fight has the power and control of both worlds?


World of Wars  
  
Again he was stuck in this house, locked away from all the wonderful magical things that Harry has grown to appreciate over the past six years: Hedwig was stuck in a cage, his broom locked in chains in the dark damp basement (Harry hoped there was an anti-rot charm cast on it), his wand strangely incased in ice at the back of the freezer, (Harry guessed Aunt Petunia thought Dudley would provide further protection of the frozen wand when it was in the refrigerator) and his magic books were thrown in a trunk with only a couple of locks in place. No funny business was to happen this summer.  
  
It was almost 6 o'clock as Harry quietly sneaked out of the window down a tree and found his favorite spot to listen to the nightly news. Again, exactly like last summer Harry was sitting right in the garden listening to the Muggle news for anything out of the ordinary.  
  
NEWSFLASH - ACB News update LIVE  
  
Mass murder at the White House.  
  
Harry jolted up, hit his head on the flower box, but managed maneuver some purple poises to see the television screen and its ghastly images. A woman report was standing amiss what could only rightly be called chaos. Her precise makeup and hair was the only thing in order as in the background wailed mourners, riots growing rapidly out of control, and even clean white medics were running round and round looking more and more horrified as they kept on pulling out body bags strangely shaped. Their bodies were already ridged it seemed. They were way too late.  
  
The President of the United States was out of the office and is not harmed. The Vice President has been found dead at the scene.  
  
Uncle Vernon had increased the volume and the report's clear voice shook now and then. Whether it was from the increasingly growing mob that began to shake the tall black fence of the white house, or the sheer number of ambulances that passed by, taking their occupants to their final resting place, Harry didn't want to know. Aunt Petunia called Dudley from his room so that he would hear the earth shattering news and the ground did shake as Dudley stomped down the stairs torn away from a Counterstrike kill.  
  
Hundreds were killed in minute. Bystanders can confirm that victims close to the White House gave a single scream before they were murdered, as if their very lives were sucked right out of them. It seemed there is one survivor, a small boy about eight years old. He is unable to communicate right now so if anyone can identify this boy please contact the police as soon as possible.  
  
A clip was shown of the huddled in the fetal position resisting all attempts of outside communication. His hair was dishelmed, similar to Harry's own mess. He would whimper to his parent in a painfully tormented cry. Harry began to wonder what could create such trauma for such a little boy and what else could kill hundreds of people in minutes. Pieces began to fall in place but how? It didn't belong in that world. Why would Dementors go to the most powerful country's capital and wage war?  
  
Harry remembered he had other things to worry about, such as his own 'loving' family. He skidded back into the house and sneaked into the kitchen. Luckily, everyone was glued to the TV, soaking in grotesque scenes that were being relayed all over the world. Quietly he reached into the freezer and reached to the back. Cursing his memory for failing to remember a fire spell he ripped the block from the back, wand and ice. What would they do if they thought wizards were trying to take over the world? No one had noticed Harry, as he was quiet and quick as a rabbit that was being hunted for his 'lucky paws'.  
  
He was halfway down to the basement as an audio clip was heard from the little boy. "All alone mommy. Where are you daddy? How come I'm so sad?" he whispered over and over again until the audio was cut along with the hearts of every person watching that clip in the whole world.  
  
"My dear God!" Aunt Petunia finally realized it. "Harry?! Where in the bloody hells are you? What have you done!?"  
  
No time for being quiet now. "COME!" Harry yelled at the broom hoping the summoning spell was strong enough to beat those chains. A porky slow Dudley finally came to the same conclusion his mother did. He remembered exactly how it felt like to be sucked of happiness, sucked of life. A great snap was heard as the broom zoomed up the stairs and into Harry's arms magically in one piece. Broom and wand ice cube in the other, he flew the broom straight up the stairs and into his room.  
  
"Stop! Your kind murdered them! We'll take you to jail ourselves!" Dudley puffed and huffed up the stairs as fast as he could. He was closely flowed by his mother and his father who was still a bit baffled. Harry swung Hedwig's cage on the broom and flew straight out the window, glass and all. He finally was sure that he would never step foot in that house again. Whether to be sad or happy, it didn't matter, he was all alone.  
  
Round the clock news updates are available as we investigate the cause and the United States course of action all coming up in a few minutes. If you have any information that would be relevant please call our toll free.  
  
The television was then turned off.  
  
* * * A/N - No motivation. May or may not continue. 


End file.
